New Trauma

The weapon I acquired took the form of some wooden scrap I'd torn off a torture shelf. It crackled and snapped, following my loud grunts as I tore it free from the frame. 

Despite the commotion I was causing, the woman remained completely engrossed in her task. With her teeth buried into Sato's neck, she continued to steadily drain away his life essence.

My rage began to boil over as she ignored my presence. "I hope you got a mouthful!" I yelled, and charged at her, fueled by my anger and desperation.

I stood over her with a glare of murderous fury, fully enveloping her beneath my shadow. Even so, she made no note of my presence. 

"Heh," I raised my arm for a swing, " ignore this!" I threw my arm down, slamming the wooden scrap against her head. A cut formed on her forehead, and streaks of blackened blood poured forth. But, aside from that, she still hadn't reacted.

"There's plenty more where that came from!" I bellowed through clenched teeth, fueled by a primal rage that coursed through my veins. 

I rained down a steady stream of weighted blows upon her. With each strike, I grunted and snarled. My frenzied noises echoed through the air, evoking the image of a wild beast tearing into its prey. 

Likewise, my attacks carried such ferocity that she was forced to unlatch her fangs, releasing a mouthful of Sato's blood that she had not yet consumed.

I repelled her off Sato's neck like a tick with flame and savagely struck her as hard as I could, as fast as I could. The crunching of her skull as her head scattered was grotesque but not something that would quell my anger.

Her blood shot up and sprayed wildly, soaking my club black as midnight. The color caught me off-guard, but my only focus was thrashing this monster with everything I had. Even when she ceased moving, I kept hammering away at her out of pure adrenaline.

It didn't take long before my weapon broke into several pieces, leaving me with nothing but a useless handle…and the realization that I'd just killed someone.

I dropped it, the wood clattering loudly on the slick floor, and stepped backward in shock.

While trembling, I brought my hands to view. They were soaked in black blood and glistened from the torchlight above. I had always been violent, something I blamed my old man for, but never had I crossed a line like this.

I stared at my victim. She was a complete mess, her head split open like a melon. As her blood pooled on the floor, I pondered to myself about my victory.

I wasn't thrilled, nor was I prideful at my victory. Instead, I could only think of one thing. 'What… What did I just do?' I wanted so badly to grip my mouth and fight the queasiness threatening to consume me, but I couldn't. I was too afraid of smearing blood on my face.

My focus was drawn to the ceiling as I thought to myself. 'Is this what it's like for you, Sato… Yuuya?' I wondered if this level of brutality was the type of thing a soldier faced on a daily basis.

Many thoughts consumed my mind, but I felt a weight around my waist. 'What's that?' I thought, looking down.

When I saw it, I couldn't help but laugh at my stupidity. 'That's right...I have a sword...' With this, I could've just stabbed her and been done with it. However, thanks to the heat of the moment, I didn't even remember that I'd had it. Would I be so bloody if I'd used a blade?

Squeamishness overflowed from my gut to my throat, sending me to the edge of vomiting when Nakamura excitedly cheered. "H-He… He… He's alive!"

With that declaration, my queasiness vanished. Replacing it was unbridled joy. 

My somber expression dissolved into an embarrassed smile. I wasn't sure why I felt attached so strongly to Sato. Perhaps it was because he reminded me of my brother, whom I deeply respected.

Without hesitation, I rushed to him, with Agawa and Kamida lagging close behind. We crowded around Nakamura, our hopes soaring and weighing heavily on his back. He frantically tore at his own clothes, desperately trying to bandage Sato's stomach wound.

In that moment, Nakamura's gaze was unwavering and uninterested in his surroundings. It was as if he saw nothing else but the critically injured man before him. His focus was wholly fixed on saving Sato's life.

We followed Nakamura's lead, ripping portions from our clothing and piling them nearby for Nakamura to use. Agawa even tore parts from her already ragged blanket to provide for the doctor. 

Once we'd finished, Sato's torso was wrapped so thoroughly you'd think he'd been mummified.

Filled with hope, Kamida uttered the question we'd all been thinking, "Will he be okay?"

However, Nakamura avoided eye contact. No, it wasn't that he'd been avoiding us. His eyes were fixated on Sato's wrists. 

He expertly unwrapped the bandages to reveal the putrid gashes of flesh that hid beneath them. They crusted over with darkened red and released a grotesque bloody discharge.

As Nakamura's face fell with the sight, his demeanor changed from one of determination to despair. He looked at us with a pained expression as if the very hope we had held was poisoning him from within.

"If I'm being honest...no. No, he won't be okay. This man was already in critical condition with the wound on his stomach. If we factor in the injuries on his wrists..." Nakamura's trembling hand moved to lift his glasses with two fingers, scratching the area of his nose that was underneath. "To think he's been suffering with such injuries on his arms too…"

"So, you'll be able to fix him, right?" Agawa asked, frantic with worry. It shocked me, given her attitude toward Sato before. 

Nakamura stood up from Sato, staring at his motionless body in anguish. He scrunched his fists together and bit his lip, nearly to the point of drawing blood. "There's nothing more than I can do without the proper equipment."

His admittance of failure sent me over the edge. "Don't give me that!" I shouted. "You're a doctor, right? So, fix hi-"

He turned to me, his eyes flickering with frustration. "There's nothing more I can do, alright?! I have no blood transfusions, no medication, no IV bag, I don't even have a fucking sewing kit!" he clutched his neck to ease his now ragged breathing. "I-I'm sorry, I just didn't expect this level of injury..."

As much as I wanted to accost Nakamura for his incompetence, I knew it wasn't his fault.

Though he had medical experience, he was no God. Ultimately, I was just projecting my anger onto him, as I'd always done when I was stuck and helpless. I would always retreat into my rage, lashing out at anyone within striking distance.

'I'm so useless,' I despaired with clenched fists.

Unlike me, Agawa took charge and presented a sliver of hope. "What if we take him with us?!" she loudly asked with renewed perseverance.

"What?" Nakamura stared quizzically.

"What if we take him with us?!" Agawa repeated. "I remember seeing a clinic-looking building in town. Couldn't we take him there?!"

'A clinic? Did we see something like that?' I dug voraciously through my memories of the town.

Replaying all day's events, I finally found myself staring at the building we'd seen that sullen kid in. Above the window he stared from, hanging over the doorway, was a sign depicting a painted red wooden cross. Maybe she was right! Another world or not, there was nothing else it could be!

Nakamura took a breath and glanced at Sato. "If he has any, he doesn't have much time left. With his lost blood, we'd need to act about as fast as a bolt of lightning to stand any chance at saving him."

Agawa ignored Nakamura and instead strode swiftly toward the woman's lifeless body. She ripped off the blood-soaked apron, pants, and shirt without a moment's hesitation.

After putting on the pants, Agawa used her current coverings to protect her modesty as she slid on the blood-stained clothes. 

She turned away from us and dropped the blanket, revealing her smooth and unblemished back. Finally, she hastily threw on the shirt. While it may not have been the most comfortable fit, it did the job.

I breathed a sigh of relief. 'Anything's better than a blanket, at least.'

Due to the significant difference in bust size, Agawa's new blouse hung just below her slim waist. The two's waist difference wasn't as large, but Agawa still had to fasten her pants with some makeshift rope she made with pieces torn from the blanket.

Finally, without turning around, she spoke, her voice laced with a hint of a smirk. "A bolt of lightning. Easy enough."